


sounds of us

by HGRising



Category: Football RPF, Real Person Fiction, Sports RPF
Genre: M/M, Prompt Challenge, Schweinski, Schweinski Valentine's Challenge, Valentine's Day, deluxe edition, do you love him, i hate love songs, mix tape, schweinski fic exchange, the b-side remixes, those silly love songs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-14
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-03-12 07:11:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,709
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3348209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HGRising/pseuds/HGRising
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was written for the Schweinski Valentine's Challenge. Set their love to a soundtrack, make it a mixtape.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. track 01a

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Instructions on how to best begin reading this fanfic selection. Hate me. Hate yourself. If you want happy, read only the odd numbered chapters. If you don’t, read as usual. Or, follow the instructions that come with each chapter. I am not fucking around about this, you guys. Unfortunately, I haven't had time to edit or finish this project. :/ I will be getting around to it, however. So, I hope you enjoy what I have so far.

Prompt: Bastian and Lukas have a conversation via [candy hearts](http://media.onsugar.com/files/2010/01/03/5/192/1922195/f44d9305d7c3efbf_4558559-480x720.jpg). _Is it fluffy? Is it something else (I do NOT mean angsty… so help me, God…)? What do they say? How do they say it?_

.

>>

>>

>>press play to start

>>track 01a

>> **talk deutsch to me**

>>

>>now playing

>>

>>

.

Lukas waited near the automatic sliding doors of the airport dressed in dark jeans and without his trademark cap. He went undetected by the bustling people around him.

The other travelers were too absorbed in their own affairs to notice either one of them.

Overnight bag slung over his shoulder, Bastian walked up to him, swaying uncertainly on the balls of his feet. He wasn’t his usual debonair self, the representation that people had come to associate with and expect from him. Lukas stripped his crafted barriers away long ago; he was there when he built them up for the cameras. And, as wonderful as it was to have someone accept him for the person he was, Lukas never failed to make him feel nervous even now. Never failed to make him weak in the knees.

Standing toe to toe with him, Lukas held out his hand in between them, fist closed over something hidden.

He had that mischievous grin on, and Bastian played along, covertly wiping his hand against his jeans before placing his hand under his in response.

Lips spreading into a wider smile, Lukas dropped something lightweight and smooth into his awaiting palm.

“A sweet heart for my sweetheart,” he muttered for Bastian’s ears only.

In their private slice of airport humdrummery, Bastian looked down at his hand. He turned over the tiny heart shape he found there and felt his cheeks warm with blood from the bursting capillaries. He felt overfilled with restless energy. He didn’t know what to do, grateful for the ever present scarf he wore.

 _Be mine_ was unashamedly emblazoned in small capital letters on the candy. Bright red. As bright as Bastian felt.

Lukas would tease him mercilessly if he knew how much he liked his miniscule gift.

“Who else’s would I be?” He whispered, looking down at their shoes, his voice scratchy and muffled. “Idiot,” he declared more loudly. He shifted his bag on his shoulder and pulled his scarf below his chin when he calmed himself somewhat.

Steadying himself, Bastian leaned in as if to kiss him.

Mirroring him, Lukas leaned in as if to _dare_ him.

They were in public, after all. Bastian knew Lukas didn’t think he’d do it.

And, he was right.

Just as their lips were about meet, Bastian popped the candy heart into his mouth, lightly knocking Lukas’ chin.

Lukas rubbed his jaw and shook his head, snorting. “I knew you wouldn’t do it.”

“I might have,” he insisted, savoring the sweetness.

.

They stood side by side in Lukas’ kitchen. Lukas was at the counter while Bastian stood by the stove, pretending to cook.

“You know, this isn’t as sexy as I thought it’d be,” Bastian complained. He unenthusiastically fidgeted with the spoon in the saucepan, tapping at the frothing bubbles and watching them pop.

Without missing a beat, he replied, “Not everything has to be about sex.”

Lukas was expertly chopping at the garnishes on the cutting board, but Bastian could feel his eyes on him. He was certain Bastian would burn something in his kitchen if he weren’t supervised like a child. It had happened once years ago with the crème brûlée, and he still wouldn’t let it go. It wasn’t as if he didn’t pay for the remodeling.

“Clearly.”

Hand on his hip, Lukas stopped his knifework and cocked his head in Bastian’s direction. He’d been complaining since they started a half hour ago. “I told you I had something else in mind at home, and _you_ said you couldn’t wait.”

“I thought you were being cute and talking about sex.”

“ _Not everything has to be about sex_ ,” he repeated.

“Then stop making things sound so sexy.”

Haphazardly brandishing the knife in his hand, Lukas leaned against the counter to face him completely and demanded to know, “ _How_? I literally said, ‘I’ve got something special planned at home if you don’t mind waiting to eat.’”

“ _How_? How is that _not_?”

He eyed the gleaming knife in Lukas’ hand and appreciatively took in his agitated state. He bit his lower lip in anticipation, ignoring Lukas’ groan of frustration. His mind was failing him, too focused on distraction.

“Maybe you need to hear yourself talk sometime, and then you’d understand what I mean. I’ve got my phone if you want to try…”

“No,” he declined immediately.

“Come on….”

Bastian nudged him, attention completely off the pan now.

Exasperated by his carelessness, Lukas laid down the knife and took his place by the stove, stirring the thickening sauce to make sure it wasn’t completely ruined.

“It’ll take two seconds.”

Lukas glared at him but stayed silent.

Wrapping his arms around his neck, Bastian sidled up to him, engulfing him in a tender hug from behind, but Lukas ignored him. So, he watched him instead. He watched as Lukas tried to keep ignoring him but falter as Bastian blew on his neck to tease him. He watched as Lukas gripped the wooden spoon with his hand and stirred. Shivering, Bastian remembered his calloused and confident touch. He licked his lips, eyes moving up the defined muscles of his arm.

“Or, maybe a bit longer.” Resting his head next to Lukas’, his voice came out breathier than usual. “Just to make sure you understand.”

Bastian felt his jaw muscle tense against his cheek, but he still didn’t answer, staring intently at the sauce. It only encouraged him to prod further. It was always a treat when Bastian managed to make Lukas lose control.

He lightly trailed his fingers down his arm, turned golden by the Italy sun. He felt soft, downy hair and even softer skin under the pads of his fingertips. Beneath his chest, he felt Lukas’ pulse quicken and breathing become uneven. When Bastian reached his hand, he kissed the corner of his mouth.

“It wouldn’t take too long. We’d finish before anything burns,” he promised, pressing his hips into Lukas’ to show him how ready and willing he already was. Casually, he let his other hand run down Lukas’ stomach and further down to the front of his jeans. Finding what he hoped, he chuckled huskily, “Definitely not too long.”

He stood there triumphantly and fondly continued caressing him, waiting for some kind of response.

Finally, Lukas sighed and jerked his hand out from under Bastian’s, and Bastian let both hands fall in disappointment, afraid he’d done something wrong.

That thought was soon dispelled.

Turning off the stove, Lukas grabbed Bastian’s wrist roughly enough to leave marks long after they parted and kissed him, sliding his tongue into his hot, pliant mouth.

Bastian threw himself into it completely, enjoying his victory. He didn’t even mind when Lukas flipped their positions, and the harsh edge of the countertop hit his lower back.

When Lukas dipped low to leave bruises on his neck, he felt himself soon being lifted up by the strong arms he had previously admired. Wrapping his legs around his waist for leverage, he was in the air for all of twenty seconds before his back hit another hard surface. His eyes flew open, and he found himself spread flat on top of Lukas’ dining room table.

From below, he felt Lukas tug at his belt impatiently and propped himself up on his elbows to watch.

This was exactly as sexy as he thought it’d be.

.

Dessert was a bowl of candy hearts precariously spilled across Lukas’ sheets.

The sugar dissolved completely on his tongue, and he licked his lips, coating them with the same syrupy sweetness. It tasted as sweet as how he imagined their love tasted and just as addictive. It made his teeth ache and body shake.

 _Kiss me_.

Lukas slipped another pastel-colored confection between his lips, leaving his fingers against his sticky, swollen lips.

Bastian licked at his fingers before taking them slowly into his mouth, sucking at them like he did the candy.

Seamlessly, Lukas replaced his fingers with tongue.

He tasted sweeter than sweet candies he plied him with. Ambrosia to his poor, wretched soul.

Bastian broke their kiss in his feverish haze, gasping for air and struggling to gain a hold on something solid to ground him but only found Lukas all around him. In him. Pervading his senses. His mind. It was all Lukas. _Lukas, Lukas, Lukas._ His heart beat with the same sound. An oath to beat only for Lukas.

Lukas reached down between them, and he almost choked on the feeling. It had been so long since they got to enjoy themselves like this. He wasn’t used to the overwhelming pleasure anymore, and Lukas seemed bent on reacquainting him.

He laid him down, and Bastian’s legs came up around his waist once more in a practiced routine.

There was an out of place lull in their coupling that Bastian waited to pass. When Lukas didn’t move to put him out of his misery, he finally looked up. When he discovered the reason why Lukas had stopped, he became painfully self-conscious. Lukas was giving him that look again. Like he was everything important to him, and Bastian wanted to believe it so much. But, he flinched anyway at the open display of affection.

Bastian made a whining noise and bucked his hips, calling Lukas’ attention back at hand, and for better or worse, he was back and focused.

Lukas’ fingers dug into his pale skin, leaving angry crescent moons behind. He eased into him slowly, hips angled forward into Bastian’s. Their crude motions made colors burst like fireworks from the corners of his eyes. Together with Lukas like this, the world was in vibrant technicolor that he was seeing for the first time, possible only in this room and only with Lukas.

Locking his legs more firmly, he urged him to go faster, and he gasped with each slide home.

_lukas lukas lukas please_

Lukas grunted from above him. He was close. He wondered if Lukas was as well because he doubled his efforts as if to drag Bastian tumbling through with him. Bastian’s back grew red and abused from the friction generated against his sheets, but apartment could be on fire, and he wouldn’t tell Lukas to stop. If anything, he’d demand he finish what he started. There would be hotter fires in hell.

Maddeningly, he began to stroke Bastian’s cock, and Bastian came crashing. He bit down hard to hold in his screams of ecstasy, breaking the candy between his teeth.

Tangy iron accented the sweet, and he swallowed the honest flavor.

Intent on fully satisfying them both to the point of exhaustion, Lukas kept up his rhythmic fucking, and Bastian held on for as long as he could, rolling his hips to meet Lukas’ each time until, before he was just about to break from being overwrought with pleasure, he felt Lukas come with a final thrust inside him, filling him completely.

Tears collected at the corners of his eyes. He’d never felt more content and fulfilled.

Dropping down to his elbows, Lukas kissed him before he grew too desperate for air and had to push him away.

But, Lukas didn’t keep away for long. He kissed his face, kissed his hair, held him tight. He kissed his tears away.

Sighing, Bastian was content to lie there in the glowing aftermath as Lukas doted on him and took care of him.

“You’re mine,” Lukas reminded him, punctuating each word with a kiss. “You can’t leave.”

“I won’t,” he lied. He’d be gone in the morning, and Lukas would be the one to drop him off at the airport. But, it was nice to daydream even then.

.

Bastian shivered miserably on the plane back home, shoving his hands deep into the pockets of his oversized coat for warmth. He was already thinking of planning his next return when his hand curiously brushed up against a small box.

He pulled it out, not knowing what to expect but pleasantly excited all the same. He was already missing his lover, and there was only one way it got there, one person to have put it there.

He noticed that it had already been opened and carefully rewrapped and considered it suspiciously. He wondered what Lukas had given him this time. Looking at the front of the box was a handmade label marked, ‘ _Sweetheart._ ’

Allowing himself a small smile, he opened it and poured some candies into his hand. One after the other, they fell out, each imprinted with the word ‘sweetheart.’

He laughed to himself before messaging Lukas to thank him for his sneaky and romantic notions.

He let the words dissolve on his tongue.

With each piece of candy, he relived the memories of their stolen day together, letting the sweetness warm him from the inside out.

.

>>

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>>readying track 01b

>>please go to chapter 2 for track 01b

>>skip?

>>please go to chapter 3 for track 02a

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	2. track 01b

Prompt: Bastian and Lukas have a conversation via [candy hearts](http://media.onsugar.com/files/2010/01/03/5/192/1922195/f44d9305d7c3efbf_4558559-480x720.jpg). _Is it fluffy? Is it something else (I do NOT mean angsty… so help me, God…)? What do they say? How do they say it?_

.

>>

>>

>>press play to start

>>track 01b

>> **words we live by** **  
**

> >

>>now playing

>>

>>

.

_i missed you i’m sorry i miss you don’t leave you’re mine you said so_

_you’re drunk_

_do you love him_

_he’s here_

Bastian edged in and out of step with Ana, unable to focus. Through the streets of Munich, Bastian noticed the pink hue that the shops had taken and barely had to guess what holiday was almost upon them. Usually, he missed these sorts of things. The two of them usually avoided public places when they spent time the little time they were able to spare together. They had to.

He hated the holidays, he decided, but more so this one in particular. There was too much guilt associated with the holidays for him. Too much blame and disappointment going around his head until they settled around his neck like a noose. He hated everything about the holidays, but most of all, the shininess of the holidays that mocked him now with their brittleness.

_i knew you wouldn’t do it_

The way he said it. The heavy, unwieldy disappointment that dragged down his words and fell flat at Bastian's feet.

“I might have,” he said to himself. Immediately, he corrected himself, “I _would_ have.”

The burning sensation in the back of his throat crept up towards his mouth and made it sour. Swallowing it down, he stared straight up towards the clear sky mocking him.

“What?”

The feminine voice startled him from his private moment, and he remembered Ana.

“Nothing, Ana. Can we go back now? I think we’ve got enough party decorations.”

“Not yet. We don’t get to go out that often since we’re always traveling. Let me enjoy this,” she reminded him playfully.

_you’re sorry is that all you have to say for yourself you bastard_

_  
_

_answer me are you ashamed of us say something_

_you are ashamed_

 

_say something please_

“No,” he said harshly. They had had the same tired fight again and again. He told him it wasn’t time yet, damn it. He just needed more time.

A hand brushed gently against his, but he jerked it out of grasp before he realized who he was and who that person was, and gave her a practiced smile and whispered apology.

“Mhmm. No, huh? Well, that’s too damn bad, Schweinsteiger.”

He stared, unable to say anything back.

Her teasing smile dropped at the lack of response, and she tilted her head to one side and narrowed her eyes slightly as if she were trying to figure out what made him tick. It lasted only for a second before she stopped and gestured towards one of the many shop windows. “Hey, look over there. Isn’t that cute?”

When he really looked, he saw it was a sweets store, predictably decorated with frills and shades of red and white topped with dramatic hearts and bows.

Bastian’s stomach churned.

He tugged at her hand to keep moving, words failing him.

“Hold on. I think I want to buy something,” she said, steering them towards it anyway.

He followed but let her hand slip from his.

In the shop, they too parted, and he let her go.

Bastian didn’t want to take one step further. This was already more than he intended.

From the doorway, his eyes landed on the adjacent window display. Blending in amongst the advertisements boasting sales and the widest variety of candy anyone’s ever seen were bowls of candy hearts, boxes of them stacked behind the display for sale. A classic for all Valentine’s Day celebrators, now twenty percent off.

His hand reached out before he could have any say.

Breathing deeply, he tried to regulate his anxiety. His shaky hands gave him away anyway.

Careful not to drop it, he turned it over to its front, seeing some brand that he’s probably seen before but not really seeing because his mind was playing tricks on him and all he could see was the overlay of a distinctly handmade label.

He took off his scarf and unbuttoned his wool coat, feeling his need to breathe intensify.

He needed to breathe.

_why can’t we just go out for once no one will recognize us no one will care_

“I know that now,” he said, speaking to the box in his hand as if it could somehow absolve him.

No, he did take him places; he swore he did. He thought hard to remember where he took him, but he was sure of it. He rubbed his temples and pulled at his hair in frustration. He had to have taken him somewhere. He couldn’t be right.

“Know what, darling?”

He jumped in his skin, not expecting her or expecting to be where he was either. “Nothing,” he said quickly, guilt replaced by more.

She didn’t look like she believed him and eyed the crumpled box in his hand. Trying, she commented, “Oh, I remember those. We used to get them all the time when we were kids. I don’t know anyone who liked them.” She gagged in exaggeration to demonstrate her disgust in a way that was meant to amuse him.

_a sweet heart for my sweetheart_

Surprising even himself, Bastian snapped, “ _I_ like them.”

Blinking himself back into awareness, he apologized.

She twisted her wrist out of his grip and rubbed it gingerly.

He didn’t know when he had grabbed her or how.

“Alright then. Fuck. You didn’t need to bite my head off.”

“Sorry,” he said flatly.

Slowly, she suggested, “Maybe we should just leave.”

“Finally,” he breathed in relief. Reminded by the weight in his hand, he added, “… Let me just buy this.”

She arched her eyebrow at him.

“I _like_ them.”

“Okay,” she said, raising her hands up in surrender.

Exiting the shop, Bastian poured some out into his hand, not wanting to read the small words but wanting to see if they were like he remembered them.

He stared up at the sky again, allowing Ana to lead them.

That last time; he didn't know it would be their last time.

Picking one up without looking at it, he placed it on his tongue and recoiled.

Sweet. Too sweet. Cloying and sticking to the roof of his mouth.

The overwhelming sweetness made him want to spit it out before the poison could reach his veins and do more damage.

_sweetheart only yours i love you yours truly be mine kiss me soul mate be mine be mine you’re mine you can’t leave i won’t let’s kiss_

_be mine_

_i’m here now_

_then be here_

 

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	3. track 02a

Prompt: The DFB has posted something on their twitter page to commemorate Valentine’s Day. _What ridiculousness did they post this time? Reactions?_

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>>press play to start

>>track 02a

>> **is this real life  
**

>>

>>now playing

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.

It happened over Saturday breakfast.

His phone chimed with news of an update from one of the various pages he was following.

_@DFB-Team – Feb 14_

_Happy Valentine’s Day from the new captain and his WAG. ;) #love #schweinski #otp #aha #relationshipgoals #lukaspodolskiismyfavoritewagtbh_

.

The hot coffee pooled in his lap from the cup just a hairsbreadth away from his lips.

It was just as well. He would have spit it out anyway if any of it had made it into his mouth.

Finally registering the pain, he jumped from his seat and dropped his phone in the process.

Swearing up and down, he vowed to find out whomever it was that was running that page and demand they run every little thing they post past him for approval first.

After he finished cleaning up his mess, he scrolled through his contacts list. He needed to find out immediately and take that post down before their cover was blown.

If anything, Jogi was entirely too protective of his children.

.

“What are you doing?” Lisa asked from behind him.

Thomas was crouched down low into the bales and piles of hay, sifting through it carefully.

“Looking for my phone.”

“In the stalls?”

“I dropped it.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to show Freddie what the DFB page posted”

“What’d they post?”

“A picture of Basti and Poldi.”

“Why would you want to show him that?”

“Because they’re his OTP.”

“What’s an OTP?”

“Oh, my sweet summer child.”

.

Stopping at the DFB’s twitter page, Manuel snorted inelegantly as he scrolled through the updates on his phone. Immediately, he took a screenshot to show everyone and their mothers later when they got called up for international break.

.

Per slammed his hands down onto his kitchen counter, startling his wife. Tears of laughter streamed down his face.

Ulrike stared at him strangely, picking up the phone to see just what had put her husband into hysterics. Her eyebrows knit in concentration as she saw Bastian and Lukas in mid-kiss, recalling the affair at the World Cup finals.

“Oh,” she said. “I always thought Basti was the WAG?”

Her words caused him to slide out of his chair

Putting the phone down, she walked away. She was clearly out of her element with this one.

.

Mesut tucked his phone away and logged out of the account for the day.

He just wanted his (surrogate) mother to be happy. He knew how lonely it must have been in Italy. He hoped this cheered him up at least a little.

.

Bastian reached around Lukas and into his back pocket as they walked through the carport to his car. The window of time remaining between his game and Lukas’ game was already shrinking, and he didn’t want to return Lukas late, but he also wanted the fullest amount possible. Curiously, he didn’t find Lukas’ phone where it usually was. Checking his other back pocket, both front pockets, and even the front of his jeans, Bastian came up empty handed.

“If you wanted to fool around, you’re going to have to wait at least until we get to my car,” Lukas teased, voice husky and full of promise. He took his inquisitive hands and trapped them to his chest.

Ignoring him, Bastian asked, “Where’s your phone?”

“Left it at home,” Lukas shrugged, burying his nose into his Bastian’s neck.

He squirmed, putting his hands against his chest in a halfhearted effort to push him away. “Yeah, right. Where is it really?”

“I left it at home,” he insisted, still leading him to his car.

“You forgot it?”

“I _left_ it,” he corrected.

“Why?”

“Just because.”

“Because why?”

“Let it go, Basti.”

“No. Tell me. I really want to know now.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Then tell me.”

He sighed, “Why do you want to know so badly?”

“Just _because_.”

“Fine. Because you.”

“What about me?”

“Because I can’t update my twitter and fuck you at the same time. Any questions?”

Bastian didn’t even hesitate. “So… the car? Or should we wait until we get to your place?”

.

>>

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>>readying track 02b

>>please go to chapter 4 for track 02b

>>skip?

>>please go to chapter 5 for track 03a

>>

>>

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	4. track 02b

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>>

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>>press play to start

>>track 02b

>> **wake the fuck up** **  
**

> >

>>now playing

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.

Fidgeting restlessly on his couch, Monika fiddled with her phone and bit her lip.

She hadn’t told him she was coming. She couldn’t. He would have just told her that he was too busy and brush her off. Again. He wasn’t pleased the last time she visited unexpectedly either.

But, it was Valentine’s Day, and she was going to spend it with her husband.

She _needed_ to.

The post she saw uploaded to the DFB’s twitter page that morning only bolstered her resolve.

She was tired of being laughed at, tired of being talked about behind her back. The pitying and sympathetic glances. The _arrogant_ ones that seemed to say that they might not have married someone like Lukas, but at least they could keep the man they did have. Occasionally, they were impertinent enough to ask _her_ what she thought about their relationship. Suggest things she could do to bring him back.

She was too cold, they said. Unfitting for someone like him. She should just give up.

She’d show them.

The locks in the door clicked open, and she straightened her back. Fixed a smile on her face like her mother taught her.

Holding her hands in her lap, she held her breath, so eager to validate their relationship.

When two men instead of just her one came clumsily through the door, lips noticeably locked, something inside her shifted. Either broken or suddenly connected; something was different.

The three of them froze in palpable silence.

She didn’t know who was more shocked—No. It was her. It was definitely her.

Monika couldn’t help but think they were relieved to have _finally?_ been caught.

She’d show them. She’d show them _all_.

“We’re getting a divorce,” she stated firmly. Her tone left no room for protest, but she didn’t think he would anyway.

Lukas visibly swallowed, adam’s apple wobbling just in the slightest, and the corner of her mouth tilted upward into a mirthless smile.

Her newfound sense of control made her lightheaded, but she wasn’t done yet.

“ _And_ , I’m getting sole custody of Louis. If you want to keep this a secret, I suggest you agree. Happy Valentine’s Day, Lukas. I’m done here. Fuck you both.”

.

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	5. track 03a

Prompt: They think possibly, maybe they’re falling in love. Over coffee. __Use the song, don’t use it, up to you. How do they end up there? Do they know each other?__

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>>press play to start

>>track 03a

>> **Falling in love at a coffee shop.**

>>

>>now playing

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Lukas is twenty (almost twenty one) and working at the corner coffee shop for his mother’s friend’s cousin or something as a favor. They’re related in some nebulous way, the way everyone is related in a small town like theirs.

It’s cozy, though. The coffee shop. Ceiling to floor windows, bringing in criss crossed rays, patterned by the trellises outside the shop itself. More importantly, the aromatic whispy curls of coffee wrap around Lukas remind him of when he was younger, bussing the same tables for the same people he grew up with.

He is confidence. He is brash.

He is here for the moment, but he is twenty (almost twenty one), and the world is at his feet.

Then, a blond that drifts in through the door. The bell tinkles, seemingly startling the blond. Lukas knows he isn’t from around here, but thinks he’s acting fairly ridiculous.

It’s just him working the shop at the moment, so it’s up to him to make every guest feel welcome. Personally, Lukas is wondering what he’s doing here.  

With a quirk of his lips, he asks, “Hi, how can I help you?”

He sends him a smirk back and looks at him through bleary eyes. “I’d like a coffee.”

“You’re in the right place,” Lukas says in return, grinning so he knows he’s just joking and not an ass. “Anything specific?”

“What do you drink?”

“Beer,” he says with a straight face.

The blond lets out a wry laugh. Scowling, he admits, “I think I’m good on that for now.”

“Then maybe just an espresso?”

“Sounds good.”

“Late night?”

“Friend’s birthday.”

“Oh? How was it?”

“Small, but…” He gestures at himself vaguely, as if it helped to explain.

“Maybe your friend would have appreciated it if you didn’t drink so much all the time.” Lukas has his back turned now, but he can feel him roll his eyes.

“Maybe I would have appreciated it if everyone didn’t make me drink twice as much because _he_ never drinks.”

“Maybe.”

“Maybe,” he huffed.

He pours a second cup to follow the first. “Or, _maybe_ , you should find yourself a friend who can drink with you.”

“And if I like the one I have now even though he’s a fucking bastard who can’t hold his liquor for shit?”

“Then,” Lukas says, stepping around the counter to one of the tables and settling down, “I guess you’re stuck.”

The blond sits down across from him, his legs extending and brushing Lukas’ by design. “It’s not so bad, though,” the blond says fondly, taking on a softer tone to contrast the redness of his eyes. It was fairly early after all. No one without a reason would be up now.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. The bastard can make a nice espresso.”

“I just poured it, but I’m touched, Schweini.”

“Not yet,” Schweini gins, full of promise. “What are your plans for the rest of your birthday week?”

“I swear, Schweini, birthday weeks aren’t a thing.”

“They could be.”

“They could, but they aren’t.”

“But, birthday sex all week.”

Lukas sucks in his breath through his teeth. “You make a good point.”

.

>>

>>

>>readying track 03b

>>replay?

>>please go to chapter 1 again

>>

>>

.


	6. track 03b

.

>>

>>

>>press play to start

>>track 03b

>> **Falling in love at a coffee shop.** **  
**

> >

>>now playing

>>

>>

.

Lukas is in town visiting his parents with Louis, and they happen to pass by a familiar landmark from his youth. Feeling nostalgic, he goes in and orders one vanilla gelato and one chocolate gelato, blatantly ignoring the looks he gets. He’s a homegrown hero who visits plenty, but he still attracts attention.

He waits as a young girl of about sixteen scoops the gelato into small cups for him and his son and nods approvingly at her technique. It took him about two summers to get that down. Usually, he’d hope that the customers didn’t notice he practically had all of his fingers in their ice cream.

“You new?’

She nods shyly, averting her eyes as she concentrates on not messing up. She bites her lip and confesses, “A week.”

He grins and conversationally adds, “I used to work here, too.”

Again, she nods, wide eyed.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir,” she breathes out, handing over the treats. When he goes to pay, she squeaks out another line, “It’s okay, sir. It’s on the house.”

Lukas cocks his head in consideration and doesn’t argue. Instead, he thanks her and waits for her to turn her back to serve the next patron before leaving a large tip in the glass jar he remembers being there when he was still around.

He takes one glance at Louis, who is oddly silent. When he catches the look in his eye, he can already guess what’s got his son’s attention.

There is a small table outside, and there’s already ice cream for two; Lukas decides to do his son a favor and walks back inside the shop. He’s sure his mother’s friend’s sister?—it didn’t matter then, and it didn’t matter now—wouldn’t mind. He’d covered plenty of shifts in the past. They’ve got a fancy new coffee machine now, but Lukas is clever enough to figure things out. He ushers the girl out, claiming more nostalgia.

“But, sir,” she tries to protest.

“C’mon. You can trust me. I was doing this before you were born.”

With those words, and the comfort of knowing who Lukas was, she hesitantly agreed.

“Just do me a favor and keep my son company while an old man relives his old youth, okay?”

She nods predictably.

And, he watches them. Watches as his son’s eyes dart from the girl back to him and to the girl again before inviting her to sit down. Smooth as sandpaper, but they could work on that later.

Compulsively, he snaps a picture of himself behind the counter, holding up a cup of coffee he’s just made for an amused looking customer who’s patiently waiting for the photo opportunity to be over. He knows who Lukas is, too. He sends it to his social media accounts where they update instantaneously.

His fingers itch, wanting to do more, but he doesn’t.

He passes the coffee along to the person in front of him and finishes out the girl’s shift, helping her close as she and his son chat.

.

His son is talking nonstop about the girl, but he can’t really recall anything specific that he’s saying until he breaks out of the regular rhythm with an amused exclamation.

“Hey, look!” He says to Lukas. “Uncle Basti—”

Lukas’ heart does its best not to seize.

“—is in Germany, too.”

Lukas expects the a fancy restaurant, expects the city skyline, expects the world. He doesn’t expect to see a picture of Bastian (and only Bastian) in a café he could track down if he really tried with a cup of coffee in his hands. The caption simply reads, _Feeling nostalgic._

He tries to push it down and play it off like a coincidence, but it’s never been that way between them. He just has to decide how he wants to respond.

Then, he looks at Louis who’s looking up at _him_ , only a couple of inches shorter than him now, holding the phone out for him to see, and decides that some closed doors needed to stay closed. 

>>

>>

>>end of playlist

>>

>>thanks for listening

>>

>>

.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Yes, this is all I have planned for the prompts so I'm ending it here. Thanks everyone for their support. I enjoyed this little experiment very much so.

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I’m going through some things… as you can probably tell. Sorry.


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